


lost and found

by starkslovemail



Category: Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Olympics, Boys In Love, Falling In Love, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, James "Rhodey" Rhodes Needs a Hug, Los Angeles 1984 Summer Olympics, M/M, Period-Typical Racism, Protective James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Protective Tony Stark, Summer Olympics, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:21:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21618289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkslovemail/pseuds/starkslovemail
Summary: “Are you lost?”Tony jumped at the voice cutting into his thoughts. Turning around, he saw another teen, maybe a year or two older than him, decked out in Team USA gear. He shook his head, flashing what he hoped was a disarming smile, “Nope.”“Are you sure about that?” The athlete raised a disbelieving brow as he stared down at Tony. “You’ve been walking up and down this hallway for the past ten minutes, and the least embarrassing reason why is being lost.”The blunt honesty startled a laugh out of Tony. He grinned cheekily, rocking back on his heels, “Guess I’m lost then.”--Written for the RhodeyTony Mini-Bang! Art can be seen on twitterhere!
Relationships: James "Rhodey" Rhodes/Tony Stark
Comments: 48
Kudos: 296
Collections: RhodeyTony Mini Bang 2019





	1. local boy gets lost at the olympics and falls in love

**Author's Note:**

> i really like this au, and it was super fun to work on, so i hope you enjoy it c: 
> 
> you can see the accompanying artwork on my twitter [here!](https://twitter.com/starkslovemail/status/1200818736074244098)

Tony wasn’t lost.

He was wandering around the halls of the Pauley Pavilion with a purposeful yet completely random path. He was there with Howa—his _dad_ , he forced his mind to correct itself, as part of a tour of the different facilities for the Summer Olympics. With this year’s games being held in America, Stark Industries was front and center as one of the major sponsors, and with that… _privilege_ came a series of interviews across the country as the Stark family showed off their patriotism while traveling from Manhattan to Los Angeles.

They’d met with standout athletes from every single team, former Olympians who'd made America proud, and talk show hosts who had the same three Captain America jokes. Tony had faked so many smiles over the past two months that he felt like his teeth were going to fall out.

The Pauley Pavilion was the last stop on their two-day tour of the different Olympic venues, and honestly… Tony was tired of it all.

So he’d ducked away, claiming to need to use the restroom, and while dear old dad had been annoyed that he didn’t know how to _hold it in at your age, really Tony?,_ the interviewer had fallen for the puppy eyes he’d flashed her way and offered to take him there herself.

She probably thought he was ten or something, but Tony wasn’t going to think about that.

Instead, Tony thought about how he’d been gone for over an hour, and he might have forgotten where he was supposed to go to find them.

Okay, maybe he was a little bit lost.

And he’d only planned on being gone for thirty minutes at the most, just to clear his head so he could make it through the rest of the day. But somehow, he’d gotten turned around and this place had no business being so big, but Tony knew Ho—his dad could care less about whether or not he had an excuse. Tony was just making him look bad, and the thought of the man’s reaction behind closed doors made his chest a little tight.

“Are you lost?”

Tony jumped at the voice cutting into his thoughts. Turning around, he saw another teen, maybe a year or two older than him, decked out in Team USA gear. Probably one of the younger athletes, but Tony had never seen him before. He looked nice enough, but Tony really didn’t need eyes on him at the moment. He shook his head, flashing what he hoped was a disarming smile, “Nope.”

“Are you sure about that?” The athlete raised a disbelieving brow as he stared down at Tony. “You’ve been walking up and down this hallway for the past ten minutes, and the least embarrassing reason why is being lost.”

The blunt honesty startled a laugh out of Tony. He grinned cheekily, rocking back on his heels, “Guess I’m lost then.”

Mr. Olympian was obviously unimpressed, which made him even more interesting in Tony’s opinion, but a small smile flickered across his face while he rolled his eyes.

Tony just grinned even wider.

“Do you need help finding where you’re supposed to be?” The offer was surprisingly genuine, as if he had no idea who he was talking to. His eyes were honest, and dear god, Tony had no idea how much he missed that. He had been getting really tired of all the veteran athletes who thought swaying Tony to their side was the secret to winning over Howard.

As if Howard would ever care that much. He couldn’t even be bothered to watch the recordings of recitals he missed.

But Tony was getting off track.

He found himself flushing a bit, unsure of what to do with someone so honest. He tilted his head to the side, curiously looking up at the other, “Don’t you have to do like, Olympian things?”

“Well, you’re obviously the most directionally challenged person in existence, so I’m just doing my civic duty.” The smile on his face was obviously teasing, and it shone like sunshine.

A grin slid across Tony’s face, and he stuck his hand out, “Tony.”

“Jim,” Mr. Olympian gave his hand a firm shake, calm, steady, and self-assured.

Tony raised a brow, “You are _way_ too interesting to be a Jim.”

The grip on his hand tightened as Definitely-Not-A-Jim stared down at him, a protective glare on souring his gaze, “Well then you can take that up with my Mama.”

Tony drew his hand back and raised them both up in a universal white flag, “Wait a second, I don’t mean it in a bad way.” He shrugged, “I know, like, fifty different Jim’s and James’s, and you’re nothing like them.” They were usually stuffy old businessmen who thought he could still be won over with a lollipop.

Why-Does-He-Have-To-Be-A-Jim just stared at him, severely unimpressed with none of the amusement he had before, and it took Tony way too long to figure out why.

His eyes widened, “Because you’re an _Olympian_ , not cause of anything else, I swear.”

Okay-Maybe-He-Can-Be-A-Jim-I-Swear-I’m-Not-Racist-Holy-Shit only raised a brow, still painfully unimpressed with Tony’s entire being, “Well, as long as you don’t see color.”

Tony wished the world would be kind enough to swallow him up whole.

It wasn’t.

Ears burning in embarrassment, he decided to cut his losses and stop bothering the guy. “Yeah, I’m just gonna remove my foot from my mouth and go now.” He awkwardly turned away, fiddling with his pullover.

“Aren’t you still lost?” And the embarrassed flush spread to the rest of his face at that judgmental tone because okay _fine_ , Tony was completely lost. He hadn’t been paying attention to their tour guide in the slightest because Howard’s grip on his shoulder had been getting dangerously too tight. But that didn’t even matter now because Tony’s only job had been to stand there and smile, and Howard would definitely have something to say about his inability to do even that.

His nerves must have shown on his face because Jim-Yeah-Jim-Is-Good-Please-Don't-Hate-Me gave him a long look before letting out a resigned sigh, “Where are you supposed to be right now?”

“Uh, on a tour of the facilities?” And Tony was really glad no one else was around to hear him squeak out that reply.

The deadpan unimpressed stare was back in full force, “So, you have no clue.”

“Not a single one,” Tony wanted to crawl into a hole and die with the way he was being stared at. It was more than simple consideration; it was as if the other teen was breaking down his very being and stripping him to his core. He forced his hands to stop fiddling with his jacket in an obvious tell.

Jim-Let’s-Just-Stick-With-Jim finished his evaluation, “You’re one of the sponsor's kids, aren’t you?”

Tony started, eyes widening. “How did you know that?”

“Common sense,” he shrugged as if that were the obvious answer.

Tony flushed, nodding, “That’s fair.” He gave a small and hopefully not too embarrassed smile, “Not exactly Olympian material.”

“I’m not here to judge you,” This-Jim-Really-Isn’t-Like-Other-Jim’s shrugged before starting off in a purposeful direction, “I know where you’re supposed to be.”

Tony’s legs did double-time to catch up to him, “How?”

Jim-Are-You- _Sure_ -You’re-A-Jim-Though-Because-You’re-Way-Too-Nice’s face contorted into annoyance at the question, and Tony wondered if he had said something wrong again. He was already preparing an apology when the athlete answered, “When I got here, some guy in a suit told me the conference rooms on the third floor had to be cleaned before noon for the sponsor lunch.” His voice was deceptively casual, and Tony wouldn’t have been able to tell he was bothered if he wasn’t looking up at him, “Guess they thought I was a janitor’s kid or something.” 

Tony’s stomach did a sickening little flip at the implication in his words, and all he could manage was a small, “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Jim-Shit-Shit-I-Am-So-Sorry-White-People-Exist muttered. He let out a quiet sigh, “Let’s go find your daddy, rich boy.”

Jim found the conference room easily.

Tony stayed silent the entire way there, shadowing Jim without a sound. Whenever Jim would look down at the shorter boy, his eyes were unfocused like he was lost in his thoughts. His steps were light, and he seemed to reflexively do whatever he could to not disrupt the space around him.

He’d been doing that when Jim had first seen him, but Jim had thought it was because he hadn’t wanted to draw attention to himself because he was lost. The fact that it looked like it was his norm made Jim frown thoughtfully, but he maintained their not so comfortable silence until they exited the stairwell on the right floor.

“It’s that room over there,” Jim said, pointing to door that was slightly ajar halfway down the hallway.

Tony gave the room a long look, a small, indecipherable frown on his face. He turned back to Jim, a hopeful gleam in his eyes, “Do you want to… uh, if you’re not doing anything—” he cut himself off with a shake of the head before staring Jim directly in the eyes, “If you haven’t eaten yet, do you want to stay for lunch?”

Before Jim could reply, he followed up quickly, “Not because of any stupid, backwards reason, just as a thank you for helping me.” He looked a little bit like a puppy expecting to be kicked, and Jim couldn’t help but feel a little bit bad for him.

“Why not?” Jim shrugged, “I don’t have to meet with my coach until three.” He’d only been at the Pauley Pavilion so early because he’d wanted to familiarize himself with it before the games started.

Tony tilted his head to the side curiously, “Are Olympians supposed to have that much free time?”

No, no they weren’t.

Most athletes had full schedules of training, meetings, and interviews, with sleep and family meetings carefully penciled in. Jim’s schedule was lacking compared to the rest of his teammates, for obvious reasons.

“No,” Jim said simply.

Tony had enough sense not to ask him for more of an explanation. He only nodded, “Well, I’m glad you could help me.” A brief pause as he considered what he had just said, “Unless I’m not supposed to be glad, and in that case, I wish you had been doing fancy Olympian stuff and that I had stayed lost for at least two more hours.”

Jim snorted out a laugh, “Let’s just go in.”

Tony gave him a sheepish smile before they headed to the door. Tony knocked on the door with three quick raps before sticking his head in. Jim watched as his body language shifted in time with muffled voices on the other side of the door. The hand leaning against the door frame tapped out a nervous pattern that sped up and slowed down erratically, and the foot hiding behind the door fidgeted as if it had a life of its own.

Before Jim could fully puzzle out just what that meant, Tony stepped out of the doorway and shot him a tight smile, “They said it’s fine.”

Jim gave the room a quick once over as he stepped in. A long, rectangular table with men in suits at one end and a woman seated a few chairs away. A camera crew was further away, but the equipment wasn’t being used. Tony was purposefully avoiding looking at the man in the middle, stern-faced and obviously his father

It wasn’t that they looked like each other, it’s just that the man’s eyes were tracking every movement Tony made as they stepped into the room.

“Well, Tony, I’m glad you were able to find your way back so that we can continue,” the man said. His eyes landed on Jim, and he didn’t even bother to hide his contempt, “And this is the athlete who helped you?”

“Yeah, this is Jim,” Tony made a small gesture his way, unable to keep himself still.

“Jim Rhodes,” he nodded in greeting to the room. “I’m a gymnast.”

“Gymnast?” the woman’s head perked up. She hadn’t been paying any attention to Jim when he’d first come into the room, but now she stared at him in rapt fascination, “You won the American Cup.”

Jim had won the American Cup _twice_. He’d even broken the record for the youngest winner in the competition’s history, but he wasn’t going to start bragging when he was locked in a room full of white people. Instead, he gave her a polite smile and nodded, “I did.”

“And you’re the first black gymnast at the Olympics… fascinating,” the woman nodded to herself.

Jim felt distinctly like an animal on display at this point, but he doubted anyone would care.

“Mr. Stark, if you don’t mind, can we include Rhodes in this bit?” The woman turned to the man at the head of the table, confirming Jim’s earlier guess. Stark raised a brow, fixing the woman with a stare that demanded an explanation, and she hurried to comply. “It’s just… it makes me think of you and Steve Rogers, but in a new age.” She gestured to Jim and Tony, “And look at them! Such an odd pairing, but it works somehow.”

“Does it?” Stark asked dryly, raising a glass to his lips slowly, in consideration. “Steve was a war hero before his first Games.” He looked to Jim, “You a war hero, boy?”

Jim raised his chin in challenge, “I start Air Force ROTC in the fall.” Because of course he wasn’t a damn war hero, but he wasn’t about to be intimidated by a man past his prime. He was sixteen, an Olympic athlete, and he was going to MIT in the fall. No one in this room was going to make him feel unworthy.

“That’s not what I asked,” Stark nursed his drink with a contemptuous smirk, the perfect picture of a man with a suffocating ego.

“But that’s my answer all the same,” Jim replied unflinchingly. He was playing with fire, he knew. The Stark name had weight to it, and Jim was the least influential person in the room. But still, he wasn’t going to be bullied into begging for attention.

“Tony, what’s your opinion?” Stark changed tactics swiftly.

All eyes turned to Tony. He swallowed thickly, staring at his father as if he was trying to figure out the correct answer telepathically. “I think—”

“You _think?”_ Stark challenged. “Answer with conviction or don’t answer at all, boy.”

Huh, so ‘boy’ wasn’t just a race thing. It was an _I like making people feel less than me_ thing.

Instead of folding like a deck of cards as Jim expected, Tony took a breath and squared his shoulders, “We met Finnick Masters in May, and he told us that the American Cup tends to predict Olympic winners since it’s the last competition before the Games. Jim won, so I _strongly believe_ that he’ll medal. Because of that, it would be smart to track his journey to the podium.”

Finnick Masters was a dick, but thank God he was a _smart_ dick.

“Masters… yes, I do remember him,” Stark mused to himself, “He won the American Cup before the Moscow boycott. A shame the Soviets were hosting that year.” He used his glass to gesture to a pair of chairs across the table, “The two of you have a seat.”

Tony made a beeline for the chairs, Jim following quietly as the tension slowly eased itself from the room.

They both stayed quiet as the interview went underway. Stark talked in depth about the USSR boycott of the LA games in comparison to the previous boycott of the Moscow games, the Cold War in general, and his friendship with Steve Rogers which spanned decades.

“And what about you, Anthony?” the interviewer asked, sweet as sugar and condescending as hell as she turned her attention to the younger Stark. “With your godfather’s retirement, what are you most looking forward to this year?”

“I guess I would have to say that I’m looking forward to Jim,” Tony replied with a sweet smile that was less fake than Jim was expecting. “He’s already made history once, I’m sure he can do it again.”

**Stark Heir Shows Support for USA Men’s Gymnastics Team**

_An unlikely friendship may be forming before the 1984 Olympic Games have even begun._

_14-year-old Anthony Stark, son of Howard Stark and heir to Stark Industries, has thrown his support behind the USA Men’s Gymnastics team. Due to Howard Stark's longtime_ _friendship with eight-time gold medalist Steve Rogers, the Starks have always been avid and vocal supporters of American boxers, and the entire family was present when “Captain America” was inducted into the Hall of Fame upon his retirement. Boxing is so synonymous with the Stark name that Anthony made headlines a few years prior when it was revealed that he had chosen the world of competitive dance over boxing like his all-star godfather. Now, it seems he intends to keep America on its toes._

 _A chance meeting in the halls of Pauley Pavilion with the two-time American Cup gold medalist and reigning champion is what caused Anthony to support the gymnast and his team. Jim Rhodes is_ _the youngest member of the men’s team at sixteen, and his presence in this year’s games is as unlikely as his apparent friendship with the Stark heir. He is a relative unknown who entered the scene without warning. Rumors of enhancement drugs soured his debut, but Rhodes has proved himself a mainstay in the sport despite expert analysis predicting otherwise. Stark and Rhodes come from two vastly different walks of life, but they seem to have found a common ground despite their differences._

_During the 1948 London games, Howard Stark supported Steve Rogers as he achieved his first of many gold medals after serving in World War II. Whether or not history will repeat itself and Rhodes will get himself onto the podium with Anthony Stark by his side will be fascinating to watch._

Jim had just finished his last team workout before the opening ceremonies. The team was stretching together, but Jim was slightly off to the side of the group. They were talking about God knows what, and Jim had no real desire to find out what it was.

He barely knew the other five men. They had all been members of the US Men’s team for a few years at this point, and they had wanted nothing to do with Jim when he’d first qualified for the team last year. Which honestly, Jim had no real problem with because they were all white men twice his age.

“Jimmy!”

All except for one.

At twenty-two years old, Finnick Masters was the second youngest on the team after Jim. He was the pinnacle of white American youth with his sandy blonde hair and bright blue eyes, and he was annoying as all hell to deal with.

Jim looked up as Masters plopped down next to him, looking every bit like an overgrown puppy that was secretly the spawn of Satan, “Did you hear about the fireworks at opening ceremonies?”

“The fireworks,” Jim repeated blankly, not seeing the point. “There are always fireworks.”

“Yeah, but this time _you’re_ gonna be there,” Masters grinned.

Jim still didn’t see the point.

“We gotta keep you safe, buddy,” Masters slung his arm around Jim’s shoulder as if they were friends. “If we’re not careful, you could make your own Pepsi commercial.”

Jim saw the point.

“But you’re friends with Tony Stark now, right?” Masters continued, cheerily as ever as Jim tensed in his arms. He laughed, “He’s _definitely_ got enough to pay for a new nose if you need one!”

Ah yes, Finnick Masters was also a racist piece of shit, how could Jim have forgotten?

When Jim didn’t reply, Finn jostled him lightly, “Oh, _come on_ , Jimmy! That one was funny, and you know it!”

It really wasn’t.

Jim took a deep breath and tried to continue in his stretches with the extra appendage on his person. He didn’t have the time or the energy to get into a fight, not here. Masters would go away if he didn’t get the attention he wanted, and Jim wasn’t going to give it to him. Jim would _never_ give it to him because he knew Masters would take it as an open invitation to do even more.

“Finn, we need to shower for the sponsor dinner!”

“Well, that’s my cue!” Masters clapped him on the shoulder before heading back to the rest of the team, “See ya, buddy!”

After Masters and the rest of the team finally left, Jim let out a deep breath. He would wait a few more minutes before gathering his things and heading to the showers. For now, he would relish in the peace and quiet he so very much deserved.

“Jim?”

Quietly groaning, he looked to see who had called his name. When he saw Tony Stark, he paused, the slightest bit confused. He’d never expected to see the other again. “… You’re not lost again, are you?”

Tony smiled sheepishly, soft but genuine as he fiddled with his sleeves nervously, “Nope, just looking around this time. Do you mind if I sit down?” At Jim’s careful nod, he settled himself down a respectful distance away, drawing his knees up to his chest as he looked at Jim curiously, “Do you have practice soon?”

Jim shook his head, still a little bit tense at the reminder of how his workout had officially ended, “I actually just finished.”

Tony tilted his head to the side at that, before leaning forward and taking a careful sniff of the air around him, “Huh. Well, you still smell good.”

“Did you just _sniff_ me?” Jim blinked owlishly.

“Uh, yeah, sorry,” Tony flushed brilliantly. He looked away, “So, uhm, why aren’t you showering?”

Jim shrugged, “The last time I showered with the team, I almost sprained my ankle.” Tony’s eyes widened, and Jim gave him a dry smile, “It was an accident, of course.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Tony frowned emphatically, obviously frustrated. He shook his head, “That’s so stupid. You’re one of the best gymnasts in the world right now, they need you healthy.”

“What, you’ve never been punished for doing something good before?” Jim snorted out a laugh because of course he hadn’t. He was the heir to a multimillion-dollar company. There was nothing he could—Jim paused his train of thought when he saw Tony’s face cloud over.

Remembered how he radiated nervous, panicky energy when he was near his father.

“It’s stupid,” Tony muttered quietly, looking down. “You’re only trying to do your best, and you’re _helping_ them, but they hate you. That kind of irrational hatred makes no sense.”

“And that’s why it’s irrational,” Jim said quietly.

“Yeah,” Tony slumped, exhausted by the topic.

Jim wondered, but he didn’t say anything.

They sat in a semi-comfortable silence. Jim started a new set of stretches after a few minutes, needing something to do. Tony copied his movements silently, awkwardly explaining that he was a dancer when Jim had given him a curious stare.

“I really suck at keeping still,” he admitted as they moved into a different stretch. “How—uh, my dad, he really hates it during interviews.”

Jim filed the slip-up in his mind as something else to wonder about later. He shrugged as he leaned further into the stretch, “It’s not bad to be an active person.”

“Tell him that,” Tony huffed out a sigh.

They settled back into silence for a few more minutes until a sharp voice called out above them

“Master Anthony!”

Tony jumped at the voice and scrambled up, “I have to go.”

Jim was a little bit concerned, especially when Tony pasted on a painfully fake smile to cover up the way he had flinched earlier. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, totally,” Tony nodded absently as his eyes searched for the source of the voice. Jim followed his gaze, zeroing in on a man a year or two older than Tony’s father who was trying very obviously not to run over to them. Tony looked back to him, and his smile became decidedly less fake, more of the awkward sheepishness that appeared to be his default, “That’s Jarvis, he kind of raised me.”

Jarvis had made it over to them at this point and fixed Tony with a stern but loving stare. “Master Anthony, where have you been?

“With Jim,” Tony replied simply. Then, as Jarvis looked at him pointedly, he flushed, “Okay, not like, the _entire_ time, but for the last twenty minutes at least.”

“I see.” And when Jarvis turned on him, Jim wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but it definitely wasn’t the kind, if exasperated, smile, “Well, thank you for keeping him from getting into trouble, Mr. Rhodes.”

“Not a problem,” Jim shook his head, giving the man a polite smile. And then, for utterly no reason at all, he added, “He’s good company.”

Jarvis nodded in approval (this was a test? Since when was this a test?), and looked back to Tony, “Your father is waiting for you to make your appearance.”

Tony shrunk back ever so slightly, “Is he?”

Jim watched as Jarvis put his hand on Tony’s shoulder, thumb rubbing steady circles in between his shoulder blade and releasing the tension, “Nothing so dire, I assure you. Captain Rogers will be joining you all for dinner this evening.”

“…Oh.” Tony let out a sigh Jim didn’t realize he was holding. Looking considerably more at ease, he nodded, “Yeah, I can deal with Uncle Steve.” He turned to Jim and gave him a small smile, “See? All good.”

Jim couldn’t help the laugh he let out, “That’s great, Tony.”

“Yeah, great,” the younger boy smiled a little brighter. He tilted his head to the side in question, eyes going a bit wide, “I’ll see you around?”

God, it was like looking at a puppy. A very cute, helpless puppy. He couldn’t help the smile on his face as replied, “Yeah, definitely.”

“Cool!” He gave a quick wave before letting Jarvis pull him away, “See ya, Jim!”

After spending a few moments in an easy silence, Jim gathered up his things and headed to the showers, a weird little smile teasing at his lips.

Tony Stark really was something else.

“I do not understand why you couldn’t have given a generic answer like everyone else, Tony,” Howard grumbled as he nursed his drink. “Now we have to attend every single one of these events.”

It was the first day of the preliminary rounds for gymnastics, and Howard was already done with pretending to care. Tony was oddly glad they had a box to themselves so that he wouldn’t ruin anyone else’s day.

“Now dear, you know how much Tony loves dance,” his mother reminded the man, touching his arm gently. “The floor exercises would obviously interest him.”

“He shouldn’t even be dancing in the first place, Maria,” Howard shook his head with disdain. Tony sunk into his chair, preparing himself for the rant he heard every time he ran into Howard before he could change after his classes. “I don’t know why you let him continue for so long. He should have been with me in the workshop, learning to work with his hands.”

The last time Tony had been in the workshop alone with Howard, he’d _burned_ his hands.

His mother had been all too happy to let him keep dancing after that “accident” had happened. She’d bought him new tap shoes the very next day, and by the next week, a spare room had been renovated for Tony to use as a workshop of his own.

“He needed something to _do_ , Howard,” his mother explained, tired of repeating the same words every few days. “He was going through his lessons too quickly, you know that.”

“Then he should’ve been at the gym with Steve,” Howard got up to get himself another drink. His third since they’d gotten there, Tony noted absently. “That boy he just started training, Bucky? That could’ve been Tony, but he wanted to _dance_.” He spat the word like a curse.

“He still trains with Steve once a week, dear, you know that as well,” Maria reminded him gently.

Tony tuned out whatever response Howard had because he wasn’t going to let this day be ruined. Even before he’d met Jim, he’d been interested in gymnastics. He’d been taking acro classes for the last few years, and he loved flying through the air.

It was such an incredible, indescribable feeling.

So yes, Tony actually did want to watch this event. Jim just made him want to watch even _more_.

And that’s why even when American gymnasts weren’t competing, Tony sat forward and watched with rapt attention. They were all beautiful, powerful, and it was just so amazing to experience in person.

And then, there was Jim.

The compulsory floor exercise was the first apparatus of the day, and honestly, Tony knew how the routine was supposed to go at this point. He’d seen it at least thirty times in succession.

But then, _Jim_ did the routine.

And he was _stunning_.

He was power, grace, and precision all rolled into one, and there was no doubt in Tony’s mind that he would get the coveted perfect 10.000.

But then, they gave him a 9.800.

Not just a 9.800, a 9.800 _average_.

Mixed in there was a 9.650 which made Tony want to rip his hair out. Jim would thankfully move on to Finals, but he’d be squarely at the bottom of the pack.

And that was the tune for the entire day.

Jim would perform a routine that would make angels cry at the sheer beauty, and then one of the judges would tank his score so he would barely qualify. It made literally no sense whatsoever, but Jim would just nod at the score and walk away. Not a single moment of anger or frustration, just blank acceptance that made Tony’s heart ache.

It made him think of Jim almost spraining his ankle in the showers, of the irrational hatred, of the way he stood slightly apart from his teammates, just enough that it was noticeable.

“He didn’t deserve those scores,” Tony grumbled as they stood up to leave when the first day of competition was over.

Howard scoffed, “And you’re an expert in gymnastics now?”

“ _No_ ,” Tony bit out. “I’m just—”

“Just what? Upset that you talked him up, and he didn’t deliver?” Howard laughed, dark and evil and awful, “This is _America_ , boy, the judges wouldn’t give him those scores unless he deserved them. He probably got a higher score than he deserved because the judges didn’t want anyone to look bad.”

Tony knew that that was exactly what the news was going to say the next morning, and it made him sick to his stomach.

**Men's US Gymnastics Team Ahead of the Pack as First Round of Competition Ends.**

_Competition I has ended, and Team USA has already secured their first gold medal._

_In the previous Olympic Games, the USSR was a juggernaut force in Gymnastics, especially when the USOC led a boycott of the 1980 Moscow Games in response to the invasion of Afghanistan. Without America and her allies, the USSR laid claim to nearly 200 medals across various events. With the Soviet’s boycott of the Los Angeles Games, many were looking forward to seeing how a lack of soviet intervention would make the competition more enjoyable for all._

_In true American spirit, the US Men’s team has earned the first gold medal in the Team All-Around. A strong showing during the Compulsory and Optional rounds emboldened Team USA to triumph over China and Japan, who won silver and bronze. Fan-favorite Finnick Masters led the charge with three perfect scores of 10.000 in Floor, Rings, and Pommel Horse, followed by Alexander Grayson with a perfect 10.000 on Parallel Bars. Masters and Grayson have both qualified for the Individual All-Around Finals on the 2 nd of August, and their perfect scores have earned them a place in the Apparatus Finals on the 4th. America has high hopes for these two talented men._

_The final American to qualify for Individual All-Around is Jim Rhodes, despite noteworthy deductions in both Compulsory and Optional rounds. As two-time American Cup champion, Rhodes was expected to have a stronger first showing at the games, especially with Anthony Stark vocalizing his support for the athlete early on, but he unfortunately did not meet the expectations laid out for him. Rhodes will make additional appearances at each event during the Apparatus Finals, and the American people hope he will be able to make a better showing at the time._

Tony was not crying.

He was one hundred percent not crying, and there definitely wasn’t a bruise forming underneath his Team USA pullover.

The great thing about the Olympics was that the American people were fascinated by him. He did at least one interview every day, so Howard couldn’t do anything to his face. Arms were also generally off limits because he had to be seen wearing various Team USA items. The pullover couldn’t stay on forever, so Howard only had so much real estate to cover.

The _bad_ thing about the Olympics was that he now had too many bruises to cover up and wouldn’t be able to show his torso in public for literal months. His mother had told him to put on his jacket and then leave for a few hours while Howard calmed himself down.

So, life was going spectacularly at the moment.

Tony continued on his please-be-casual stroll through the Wilson Plaza and tried to make himself as invisible as possible.

He did not succeed.

“… Tony?”

After saying a quick prayer to any god that would listen, Tony turned to see Jim looking at him in thinly veiled confusion. He offered up a small, tense smile, “Hey, Jim.”

Jim frowned, eyes far too concerned for Tony’s liking. “You’re not okay.”

“And you were robbed of like sixteen perfect scores yesterday, but who’s counting?” Tony shrugged, trying not to wince as he did so.

Jim only frowned even more, eyes narrowing as he looked Tony up and down, searching for answers in his body language, “What happened?”

“Sometimes, people punish you for doing something good,” Tony fiddled with his jacket sleeves, not looking at the other teen. He didn’t like talking about it. Nothing was ever done, so what was the point?

When Tony chanced a glance in his direction, Jim stared at him with that sad look his mother gave him when she remembered how bad things actually got. There was a burning anger behind it, waiting to be set free, but it never was. Uncle Steve had a similar look he got on his face when he noticed bruises Tony couldn’t hide, but his was mostly confusion, like he didn’t understand the source, like something wasn’t clicking in his mind.

Tony hated that stare the most.

“Anyway, I’m supposed to make myself scarce for a few hours,” Tony filled up the awkward silence as quickly as he could. He gave Jim what he hoped was a disarming, memory-erasing grin, “If you’re not doing fancy Olympian things, do you want to run away with me?”

Jim raised a brow in trepidation, “And go where?”

Tony rocked back on his heels, a cheeky grin on his face as he told himself Jim didn’t notice how tense his body was, “You’ve just gotta trust me, Rhodeybear.”

 _“… Rhodeybear?”_ Jim echoed in disbelief. “When did _that_ happen?”

“Just now, and it’s a genius invention,” Tony chimed back happily. He took one of Jim’s hands, nerves buzzing through his body with the hope that Jim wouldn’t pull away from him, “So, do you trust me?”

Jim looked at their hands before his eyes slowly traveled up to Tony’s face. A beat passed as they stared into each other’s eyes. Tony wasn’t entirely sure that he was breathing while it happened. And then, Jim gave him one of the kindest smiles he’d ever seen, “Lead the way, Tones.”

They’d spent the rest of the day doing tricks in the Pauley Pavilion.

Apparently, the Starks had arranged for Tony to go into one of the smaller gyms set up for quick practice sessions and stay out of sight. It frustrated Jim to no extent that they would just shove their son away when he was so obviously hurting, and it frustrated him even more that hiding him away from his father (Tony never confirmed it, but all signs pointed to Howard Stark as the culprit because who else would be so dickish) was the best thing for him at the time.

Despite his injuries, Tony had been happy to flip around and show off his turns for his one-person audience. With the way Tony smiled in genuine happiness, Jim couldn’t do anything but oblige him. He was nice like this, giddy and giggly and flitting around the space like a hyper little hummingbird.

Even with the semi-chaotic energy, it was oddly peaceful. Jim found himself laughing more than he had in a long time, doing crazy tricks his coach had told him were too unrestrained for his optional routines.

It was freeing.

As Jim bid Tony farewell for the evening, he felt light on his feet.

The rest of the US Men’s team was going to a sponsor’s party with Nike, but Jim’s name had been accidentally left off of the invitation.

So many accidents had been happening lately, and it was trying Jim’s patience.

He’d never expected it, but Jim was glad when Tony had stolen him away from the rest of the world. It had been exactly what he needed to clear his head and re-center himself, so even as Tony had given him a thousand different nicknames before the day was done, Jim’s heart had swelled with warmth.

_“And we just saw Anthony Stark, so let’s see if we can get a quick word from him about today’s results!”_

Jim’s ears perked up at that. He was watching Olympic news coverage with his family in their hotel room. The only upside of being left out of things was that he was able to see his family way more often than he was supposed to.

“Why didn’t they interview _you?”_ his sister Jeanette grumbled.

“Because they don’t have any sense,” his dad harrumphed from his place on the couch. No one had bothered to interview Jim about his scores beyond filming his reaction and getting a generic statement about trying his best, and his family was still sour about his media coverage. It was expected, they knew, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

 _“Anthony, now that we’re moving into the finals, what are your thoughts about Team USA?”_ the interviewer asked. They must have grabbed him as he had been leaving earlier. His face was still a little bit flushed and his eyes were bright with excitement and energy. Of all the interviews Jim had seen of the other, Tony looked the most relaxed and open he’d ever been. _“The women’s team competed today, but you were more interested in the men’s team, right? Has Finnick been impressing you?”_

Something flickered on Tony’s face, and a weird smile took over as he laughed. _“Can I be honest?”_ He leaned into the interviewer as if he was going to tell her a secret, _“I’m still trying to figure out how Jim Rhodes isn’t sweeping everyone.”_

“Did he really just say that?” Jeanette gaped.

 _“What… what do you mean?”_ the interviewer seemed to be short-circuiting a little bit.

 _“He’s just so talented, you know?”_ Tony let out a wistful sigh. _“No one out here moves like him, and I can’t stop thinking about those deductions and how they make no sense to me.”_ He let out a sheepish laugh, charm turned to the max, _“I mean, I’m a dancer, so all I really know is the movement and stuff, but he’s just_ too _good. It just doesn’t seem fair to me.”_

 _“I… see,”_ the interviewer stared at him, unsure how to respond.

Tony smiled brightly at the woman, all boyish charm and innocence, _“I’m sure Jim’ll do his best in the finals, so I hope his scores reflect his talent.”_ He looked into the camera, an impish grin on his face, _“Good luck, Rhodey!”_

“He calls you _Rhodey?”_ his mom asked, a knowing smile on her face. “That’s sweet, Jamie.”

“I’m just glad he has sense,” his dad nodded in approval at the television set.

Jim barely heard his parents as their voice faded to the back of his senses. He could only stare at the television with a little smile on his face, heart swelling with warmth.

Tony Stark really was something else.

**Rings of Friendship**

_Ever the odd couple, Anthony Stark and Jim Rhodes have been spotted around Los Angeles enjoying each other’s company. While Howard Stark and Steve Rogers were always an aesthetically pleasing sight to see, their younger counterparts are often jarring at first sight, lacking the symmetry most Americans would be used to. Despite this discrepancy, their growing friendship warms the heart of America as a representation of a bright future._

_Stark and Rhodes were seen chatting in the Wilson Plaza before later moving into the Pauley Pavilion where they shared skills with each other, pictured below. Although Rhodes has been impressing worldwide with his agility, Anthony Stark’s dance ability has yet to be seen on such a scale. The appropriateness of his apparent love of the art has been debated over the years, but it appears to be obvious that the Stark heir is an athlete in his own right. If such an event existed that would allow Anthony to showcase his skills, there is no doubt that he would medal for years to come._

_As for Jim Rhodes, he is advancing to Apparatus and Individual All-Around Finals and has the opportunity to earn a medal for Team USA. His performance in previous rounds has been a surprise to many, but continuous deductions have kept him from achieving full point potential. After Anthony Stark spoke out in his defense, many have begun to wonder if the deductions were genuinely merited. Perhaps, in their desire to stave off accusations of bias, the judges have been too harsh. Rhodes has remained calm despite concerns of an outburst from teammates, and he continues to promise to do his best._

_With a promise like that, some might be wondering what exactly Rhodes is thinking, spending so much leisure time when he is in the middle of a competition, but clearing his head with a trusted friend is integral in a high-stress environment like the Olympics. If one thing is certain, it is that Anthony Stark will continue to fight for him while he’s on this journey._

“Rhodey!”

Jim turned at the voice, relief rushing through him

He was at his first sponsor party, this one held by Stark Industries, and he had no what he was supposed to be doing. This was a weapons manufacturer that was only even interested in sports sponsorships because of a boxer that had been retired for a few years at this point.

Masters and Grayson had promptly left him behind once entering, used to the song and dance by this point.

Jim in no way missed them, he just wished he knew how this night was supposed to go. As close as he had gotten to Tony, there was no way Howard Stark had any intention of throwing money his way unless he groveled for every penny.

Since Jim knew he had inherent value as a human being, that was never going to happen.

“I’m glad you could come, Rhodey,” Tony gave him a quick hug, tight and fierce for someone so small. When he pulled back, his face was flushed and his smile was bright, “I’ve been looking for you all night.”

Jim snorted out a laugh, “Was it that hard to pick me out from the crowd?”

There was a beat of confusion on Tony’s face before he realized what Jim meant and erupted into giggles, grinning cheekily, “Well, now you’re just making me look bad, Rhodeybear.”

Jim shrugged, a playful smile on his face, “You said it, not me.”

Tony’s grin only grew, and he took Jim’s hand, “I have a business proposition for you, Mr. Rhodes.”

“Do you?” Jim raised a brow, unable to hide his amusement. “Well, you better snatch me up quickly, Reebok offered me a contract this morning.”

“ _Reebok?_ ” Tony jerked back, properly scandalized. He shook his head, “Rhodeybear, _no_. I’m trying to revolutionize sports apparel; you can’t just join the enemy.”

Jim blinked owlishly, “Wait. Are you being serious?”

“… Yeah?” Tony had a little frown on his face as he looked up at Jim in confusion.

“You’re starting a clothing line,” Jim stated blankly, “and you want to sponsor _me_.”

“Yeah!” The smile on Tony’s face was nervous but genuine, “It’s a new SI subsidiary, an anniversary gift for my mom, but she’s letting me help her.” He fiddled with the seams of his pullover nervously, “She said we could sponsor anyone I wanted to, and I want to sponsor you.” He tilted his head, looking up at Jim curiously, “Why did you think we had a sponsor party?”

Jim didn’t even bother trying to come up with an answer. The US was in the middle of an arms race with the Soviet Union, Stark Industries didn’t need any help selling weapons to anyone, that much was obvious. He shrugged, “I have no idea how any of this is supposed to work.”

Tony smiled, “Well, that’s why I’m here, Platypus. All you have to do is trust me.” He looked down at their hands, still interlocked throughout the entire conversation. He glanced back up, face flushed as he met Jim’s eyes. “Run away with me?”

“Lead the way,” Jim’s heart was full of warmth as he let Tony lead him out of the party.

Jim Rhodes was a damn _genius_ , and Tony would fight anyone who said otherwise.

 _“And look how he opens his hands like that,”_ the commentator’s voice sounded over the speakers, _“He’s telling the judges ‘My wrists are not on the rings, you can see for yourselves.’ A bit cheeky if I’m being honest, but with his previous deductions, Rhodes would want to make sure the judges see his complete abilities.”_

He was taunting the judges, every last one of them.

_“I don’t know if we’ve seen this kind of fluidity from anyone else yet, you really do have to give Rhodes credit for this one. If you’ll remember, Finnick Masters received a perfect score during preliminaries with his Pommel routine, so with Rhodes doing so well at this difficulty level… I don’t want to get ahead of myself here, but his score should be obvious.”_

While Jim’s earlier routines had been precise, clean, and graceful, his routines in the finals were purposeful, blatant, and _obvious_. Every opportunity he had to show that he didn’t deserve any deductions he was given, he took, and it made Tony giggle with glee because Rhodey was _perfect_.

_“Compared to when he did this during the preliminary rounds, you can see that Rhodes is giving himself much more space from the boundary lines than before. He does that by using more power in his jumps and completing the rotations further up in the air. His landings are firm and solid, this really is… wow, ladies and gents, I have no words.”_

His movements were sharper than Tony had ever seen them the entire competition. He left nothing to the imagination, and Tony couldn’t do anything but watch in absolute awe at the way he commanded attention from every single person in the room, daring them to say he didn’t deserve his perfect score.

_“Folks, I think we’re witnessing history right here in the Pauley Pavilion.”_

And the perfect scores came.

10.000 across the board.

**Rhodes Wins Gold**

_America received a shock today: Jim Rhodes has officially won gold in every single event._

_There was much speculation as to whether or not Rhodes would be able to overcome the numerous deductions he received during Competition I. While he was able to claim the Individual All-Around gold during Competition II, no one would have expected him to continue this on in Competition III. And yet, Rhodes managed not one, not two, but six perfect scores during the apparatus finals. Such scores at this level are unprecedented, and one might believe that there was indeed some sort of scoring fraud from the American judges, but after the behavior from Rhodes while competing, it is admittedly hard to believe._

_Rhodes’s total medal count is now a perfect eight when adding in the gold the US Men’s team earned during Competition I. As previously reported, Rhodes was suffering from numerous deductions at this time, but the rest of the team was able to rally together for the win._

_Rhodes appeared to be emotional at the podium. One can only wonder what must have been going through his mind at the time. Athletes do receive payment for the medals they manage to win, so perhaps he was thinking of the way his family will benefit from this increase in funds. In an interview before All-Around finals, Rhodes mentioned that he would be competing for his university beginning in the fall. Men’s gymnastics is considered an equivalency sport for all divisions, meaning that full scholarships are not required. Surely, this will make the burden lighter._

_Anthony Stark was also seen emphatically cheering Rhodes on. This kind of pure exuberance for a friend was a delight to see, especially as Anthony has been steadfastly supporting Rhodes throughout the Games. If Rhodes is able to replicate his performance in the future, it would be a delight to see Anthony stay by his side._


	2. local boy gets lost at mit, an epilogue

Tony… was lost.

In his defense, he was fourteen and in college. This was in no way normal, and he shouldn’t be expected to be _good_ at this whole college thing.

But that expectation still existed, and Tony wouldn’t put it past Howard to have someone spying on him to make sure he wasn’t desecrating the family name. People were milling around him, all appearing to have more important things to be doing with their lives than creeping on a fourteen-year-old, but you could never be too sure. So, Tony did his best to appear like he knew exactly where his diff EQ class was as he headed up the steps of a random building that he really hoped held the lecture hall he was looking for.

“Hey, are you lost?”

Inwardly groaning, Tony turned around, preparing to tell off whoever it was that had recognized him.

And he promptly paused, eyes widening.

As a steady stream of students and faculty floated by, already busy on the first day of classes, one stood before him with a smile like sunshine that filled him with warmth. Tony couldn’t help the genuine smile on his face as he launched himself at the other teen, “Honeybear!”

Rhodey caught him easily, wrapping him in as tight squeeze that made Tony feel safe and secure, laughing into his hair, “How was the rest of your summer?”

“Lonely,” he muttered back with a frown, hugging Rhodey tighter. Despite Rhodey’s schedule, he’d somehow managed to see the Olympian every day, and it was jarring as hell to go back to Manhattan and only see glimpses of him in the news. “I'm glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” he could hear the smile in Rhodey’s voice as they separated. He nodded to the notebook Tony was carrying with him, “What are you looking for?”

“Diff EQ with Stonewell?” Tony looked down at his schedule before turning to look at the building before them, “I think this is the right place.”

“It is,” Rhodey nodded the affirmative, holding up a printout of his schedule for the term. “I'm in the same section.”

“Really?” Tony’s eyes lit up. He scanned over Rhodey’s schedule, excitement bubbling up within him before he realized something. “Wait. You’re not surprised,” he said, frowning suspiciously before looking up at his honeybear. “Why aren’t you surprised?”

“Your schedule was leaked to the press two days ago,” Rhodey gave him an apologetic frown. “You didn’t know?”

 _“Again?”_ Tony let out a groan, slumping. “They already changed it after it got out during orientation last week.” And that had come with a phone call from Howard telling him to get his shit together and stop embarrassing him.

As if the revelation that he was a double major and had tested out of all the freshman-level courses was somehow embarrassing.

He shook his head, banishing thoughts of his the man from his head. Tony wouldn’t have to see the man until Thanksgiving, so he wasn’t about to let him live rent-free in his mind when he didn’t have to. Besides, Rhodey was here, and that instantly made things ten times better.

As if proving his point, Rhodey slung an arm around him casually, “Well, at least you’re not lost anymore.”

“How’d you even know I was lost?” Tony leaned into the touch, flushing when he felt the gentle kiss into his curls.

“Easy,” Rhodey’s smile was freely amused. “You kept looking down at your notebook like a confused puppy.” His smile grew, “Honestly, it was too adorable for me to ignore.”

“Oh,” Tony felt his flush creep onto his face as he looked up at Rhodey. He smiled, taking Rhodey’s hand as they walked into the building together, “Well, thanks for finding me.”


End file.
